


The Mile-High Club

by OldPingHai



Series: Mountainverse [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: And is John’s first view of the Himalaya, But not PWP even though the last three tags sure make it sound like it is, It's actually an introduction on paper to the members of the BSCC expedition, M/M, Not a lick of angst but perhaps other kinds of licking idk, On the flight to Nepal and Everest, Plane sex, Stealth sex, The forecast is for smooth going the whole way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:59:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3537128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldPingHai/pseuds/OldPingHai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU based on the story "John on Solid Ground." On the flight from London to Kathmandu, John asks Sherlock to tell him about the clients and the guides signed with the 2011 Baker Street Climbing Consultants expedition. Also, John and Sherlock join (what else?) the Mile-High Club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mile-High Club

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta, Teek; and special thanks to my Britpicker, johnsarmylady, for help with even more British stuff than usual.
> 
> “The Mile-High Club” introduces the members of Sherlock’s expedition. Rather than dump all the new characters on everyone at once, I decided to bring them in first on paper. By the time they show up (in the next story, which will be about the trek to Everest) you’ll already be familiar with them.
> 
> Chronologically, this follows directly after “The Price of Fame.” Much of the background mentioned in this story is explained in “John on Solid Ground.” For those not familiar with the Mountainverse, Sherlock is a world-famous mountaineer on his way to Nepal to lead a commercial expedition on Mt. Everest, John is the expedition doctor (and not incidentally, Sherlock’s husband of less than two weeks) and Greg Lestrade (who appears in this story in name only) is the expedition manager.
> 
> Meta notes near the end. I don’t honestly expect you to read every word, but they are there if you’re interested. I really did try to make them amusing and informative. And as short as possible…but they’re still too long for AO3’s official End Notes by several thousand characters, so I’m just making them part of the story.

**The Mile-High Club**

John and Sherlock Watson-Holmes passed through the automatic doors to Heathrow’s Terminal 4 and made a beeline for the Air India check-in counter.

Mycroft had been correct: stopping to chat with members of the media before leaving Baker Street definitely caused the couple to arrive later than they intended. But fortunately, the check-in went easily. All they carried were their two cabin bags, and John had their tickets, passports, visas and climbing permits all together in one envelope. Then they headed directly to the security gate, where after a moderate wait in line, their shoes and hand luggage were x-rayed while they walked through the body scanner. After clearing security, the two men spent only a relatively short time in the airline’s luxurious private lounge for the benefit of first-class travellers before the call came for passengers to start boarding.

There had been a brisk discussion about flying first class when the topic first came up, because John felt it was a waste of money. 

“But Lestrade and I always fly first class or executive class. After all, not everyone can fit into coach class seats as well as you can, John,” Sherlock had pointed out. (“Oh great, jokes about my size,” John had replied, but he was smiling when he said it.)

Now, as they boarded the plane, they were directed by the flight attendants toward the first-class section. John stopped on the threshold and stared in disbelief. He’d never flown first class before and was amazed by the luxury before him. There were only eight very roomy seats in the entire cabin, and the floor was covered with a carpet so sumptuous that John was tempted to remove his shoes and socks in order to sink his toes into it. But Sherlock nudged him along to their assigned seats, which turned out to be the first “row” of two on the right-hand side. Directly in front of their seats, but a comfortable distance away, was a bulkhead containing a very large closet for first-class passengers to stow coats and carry-on items. John did just that for himself and Sherlock, then turned and really looked around the commodious first-class cabin.

There were four rows of two seats by the windows on each side, and each cluster of two seats was separated by a wide aisle from the seats across the way. Each seat had its own personal video screen and earphones. A small sign announced “Audio and Video On Demand,” but there was no plug or WiFi for the laptops so John reluctantly gave up on the idea of setting aside time to work on the BSCC blog. Last, but certainly not least, at the rear of the cabin there were two spacious lavatories with showers for the use of the first-class passengers only, one to either side of the exclusive first-class galley. 

Sherlock noted that the flatbed seats were roomy enough that both of them could sleep together in one if they held each other tightly enough, and John thought that sounded just fine. Then Sherlock offered to let John sit next to the window, and as they settled into their wide, comfortable seats, the mountaineer stretched out his long legs, sighing happily. “This is the best expedition I’ve ever been on,” he said.

“Sherlock, we’re still on the ground in London,” John laughed.

“You’re with me on this one. That makes it the best.”

John reddened a bit with pleasure. Sherlock leaned over and kissed him.

“Yes, best expedition ever,” Sherlock nodded.

 _18:00 hours BST_  
John watched the ground recede as the plane lifted off right on schedule. He had flown many times before, of course, but he never tired of the sight of the ground disappearing beneath his feet. Sherlock watched over the doctor’s shoulder out the window as well, but it was mostly an excuse to wrap his arms around John from behind. They looked out the window cheek to cheek until they were far above the clouds and the ground was no longer visible.

 _19:00 hours BST_  
“This is your captain speaking. We have reached our cruising altitude of 37,000 feet, and the forecast is for smooth going the entire way. On behalf of the entire flight crew, I welcome you aboard Air India flight 213. Have a pleasant journey.” The seatbelt light went out.

Flight attendants came around with complementary drinks. Acutely aware of the dehydrating properties of alcohol, John asked for bottled water. Sherlock convinced him to try one glass of champagne between the two of them, and requested water also. They drank the champagne, passing the glass back and forth between them and exchanging lingering champagne-flavoured kisses now and then.

But almost as soon as the flight attendants picked up the empty champagne glass, Sherlock started fidgeting restlessly.

“Bored, John.”

“You know this is a flight with one of the shortest durations Greg could find for us. And we’re flying first class. There are plenty of distractions.”

“Such as?”

“Well, watch our flight progress on the ‘Air Show’ on your screen there.”

“Tedious.”

John sighed. He had been keeping an eye on the Air Show flight progress on his personal video screen, and he thought it was really interesting.

“Read a book. You gave me a few paperbacks to pack for you.”

“I’m saving those for the higher camps on Everest.”

“Watch a film. They have a big selection.”

“I already checked out the titles. Dull.”

John glanced at the on-demand menu. “There are certainly plenty of titles listed, Sherlock! Are you telling me not one of them interests you?” 

Sherlock shook his head stubbornly. _The world’s only two-year-old mountaineer,_ John thought fondly.

Suddenly it occurred to him that this was going to be a long flight, having nothing to do with its actual duration. He reached over, took Sherlock’s hand and smiled at him. “That day I came home early after being let go from the surgery, Greg mentioned to me that you have been of help to the police several times in the past. Will you tell me about that?” Sherlock brightened immediately and started talking a mile a minute. _Nice one, John,_ the doctor congratulated himself smugly.

 _20:00 hours BST_  
Flight attendants brought them dinner, meals that had been pre-ordered by Greg when he booked the flight. The food was delicious and they polished off every last bite; Sherlock, as usual, eating off John’s plate once he finished his own meal. 

_I hope Sherlock just put on another couple of ounces,_ John thought. Even though the mountaineer had achieved his pre-expedition goal of adding twenty-five extra pounds to his slender frame, he was in no way overweight. The ability to put extra weight on and keep it on would make a big difference once his body inevitably started cannibalizing itself in the Death Zone. Even if Sherlock could bring himself to eat and drink above 26,000 feet, his body would still consume itself, being unable at that altitude to process whatever food and water he might be able to force down. 

_21:00 hours BST_  
Sherlock grew restive again almost as soon as the meal was finished, so John went to the closet and pulled out of his bag the client dossiers Greg had prepared for him. To give Sherlock something to do, and to further familiarise himself with everyone ahead of time, he asked Sherlock to tell him everything he knew about the expedition members.

On top of the clipboard was a piece of cardboard on which Greg had neatly printed “Baker Street Climbing Consultants” using a thick black permanent marker. This was how John would get the attention of expedition members coming off international flights during the next couple of days. Underneath the cardboard was a passport photo and a brief précis for each of the six clients and the two Western guides signed with the 2011 Everest Expedition run by Baker Street Climbing Consultants. A more thorough version of the paperwork containing complete CVs and medical information already awaited John in the BSCC Medical Tent at Base Camp, and Lestrade would also have copies of everything for himself in the BSCC Administrative Tent.

John had, of course, carefully looked over the medical portion of the documentation back at Baker Street, and now he commented on how healthy everyone seemed, wondering aloud if he would have anything to do at all. 

Sherlock laughed. “There will always be someone in need on the mountain, John,” he assured the doctor, “and on top of that, some of our expedition members are probably not telling the whole truth, which will become obvious to you at the worst possible time. Many clients do not tell the truth when they send in their applications, because they are afraid of being turned down. That is why, for instance, Dr. Anstruther always ordered extra insulin, in case there are diabetics trying to hide their illness, and extra inhalers for closet asthmatics, besides for healthy clients who might develop breathing problems.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” John said wryly. “Another thing I noticed is that everyone except me has a solid climbing background.”

“Yes, everyone this year is more experienced than usual. Normally I accept considerably less-competent climbers, because their success will further cement my reputation for getting people to the summit. But I chose these particular expedition members very carefully, because I knew I was going to be cutting back on both staff and clients in order to focus on the Moriarty situation. I only included Molly originally because I knew she would benefit greatly from my higher than usual guide-to-client ratio. But since she withdrew, I decided to replace her with someone far more experienced…” Sherlock brooded for a moment. “We’ll get Moriarty this year; see if we don’t.”

“I…I’m surprised that you chose me for this job at all, when I had no climbing background whatsoever.”

“You have been the exception to everything in my life from the moment we met, John. In any case, you may stay at Base Camp if you aren’t comfortable going higher — but if you do go higher, it will always be with me.” 

Thus reassured, John waved the clipboard around in the air a bit. “So, will you tell me what you know personally about the members of the expedition?” he asked.

“I will tell you as much as I am able. For obvious reasons, Lestrade wouldn’t let me contact anyone directly — he took care of all the phone interviews from application to acceptance.”

John removed the cardboard sign and set it aside. Now the passport photo of an extremely attractive black woman stared out at him from the top page. If her expression had been more pleasant, John thought she would be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. “Ladies first — Sally Donovan, age 30,” he read.

“Donovan is a dedicated high-altitude climber currently finishing up the Seven Summits,” Sherlock responded.

John nodded sagely. “The highest mountains of each of the seven continents. You did them in seven months.”

“Donovan has been working on them for about five years,” Sherlock replied. “Everest is the last of them for her, but she already tried and failed to summit twice in the past two years. The first time she went solo, and the second time she signed with a no-frills expedition not dissimilar to the kind run by Moriarty. Apparently she has finally realised she needs the support of a guided expedition, but I believe she chose mine only rather reluctantly. Greg said it’s clear she doesn’t like me, or doesn't like what she knows about me, anyway, even though we’ve never met.”

John stared. “Why?” 

Sherlock shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care. She doesn’t have to like me; she just has to do what I tell her to do. If she does, she’ll succeed this time — barring the kind of problem that might end up affecting everyone on the entire mountain equally, such as bad weather conditions or excessive avalanche activity.”

John looked down at the précis. “It says here that she’s HR Director of Barclaycard at their headquarters in Northampton. How is she able to take the time to train, let alone go on three trips to Everest in as many years? Do you know?”

“There aren’t that many British female high-altitude climbers, and her story is rather well-known in climbing circles. She used to work HR for another company but was lured to Barclaycard because they promised her all the time off she needed to climb and offered to sponsor her trips besides. I’m sure they’ll want her to get a photo holding her Barclaycard at the summit.” Sherlock fell silent for a moment. “Lestrade suspects she intends to make Everest not only the end of her Seven Summits attempt, but also the starting point for climbing all fourteen of the world’s 8000ers.”

“So she’s both ending one quest and starting the next with the hardest mountain,” John observed. “Smart.”

Sherlock shook his head. “Actually, John, Everest is not the most challenging mountain to climb. There are five others with a higher death-per-attempt ratio, and one of them isn’t even an 8000er.”

“Really?” John asked. “Then why is Everest considered to be such a great achievement?”

“It’s the tallest mountain on the face of the earth; therefore, people have always assumed it must be the most difficult to climb. I would never downplay the danger, but challenges of extreme altitude notwithstanding, it is not a daunting technical climb.”

John made a mental note to get Sherlock to expound on the five most difficult mountains to climb the next time boredom raised its ugly head and flipped to the next page on the clipboard. “Phillip Anderson, 40, SOCO with the Gloucestershire Constabulary.” The passport photo showed a nice-looking man with wavy dark hair and a neatly-trimmed dark beard.

“I don’t know that much about him,” Sherlock admitted, “but his climbing CV is more than adequate. Lestrade attended a criminology lecture a couple of years ago with some friends he made when he was still on the force. They introduced him to Anderson, who was bowled over when he realised that he was talking to the climbing partner of the ‘world-famous mountaineer’ Sherlock Holmes. He immediately started making plans to sign with one of my expeditions. His department thought it might be interesting PR if he were to summit, so they allowed him to purchase extra leave time with a view to taking it all at once for this purpose.”

John flipped another page. “Derek Brookings, 22, motorcycle messenger, Whitechapel.” The passport photo showed a slim young man with brown hair and an ironic smile.

Sherlock nodded. “He lives hand to mouth in order to squirrel away money to go on expeditions and as soon as he has accrued the funds to pay for his next climb, he simply quits whatever messenger service for which he happens to be working. He told Lestrade he came into a nice-sized inheritance fairly recently and spent almost the entire amount on this expedition. Apparently he hopes that adding ‘summited Everest’ to his climbing CV will lead to becoming a paid guide, whether on Everest or elsewhere. In fact, assuming he does well and shows the right temperament, I shall put him on my list of possible guides in future.” 

Consulting the clipboard yet again, John said, “Alistair Mowbry, 55, full partner in the accounting firm of Mowbry & Schoenfeld, Greenwich. That sounds a very sedentary job for a mountain climber.” A trim middle-aged man with grey hair looked out of the passport photo.

“Actually, John, Mowbry has been climbing since he was a boy and takes his holiday every year with a major expedition. He was the last-minute replacement for Molly’s spot. I chose him because he’s highly experienced and I assumed, correctly of course, that of all the people on the waiting list, he would be the one most easily able to get the time off easily on short notice.”

“Finally we have a Thames Lighter Captain named Samuel Abbott, 60, Kent.” Abbott’s photo showed an athletic, vital man appearing far younger than his chronological age. John looked up from the page. “I’ve never met a lighterman before,” he said. “I’ll bet he’ll be really interesting to talk to.”

“About mountains as well as rivers, or more specifically, about the Thames. In any case, Abbott has quite a solid mountaineering CV. He's been climbing all over the world for years, but this is his first time trying Everest. He normally does less time-consuming climbs when his lighter goes in for its annual maintenance, but he has always wanted to climb Everest. This year he managed to stretch his time off by allowing his first mate to captain the craft while he’s gone.”

“So that’s the clients then,” John said. “Now, about the guides?”

Sherlock reached over, took the clipboard from John’s hands and flipped to the next page. The photo of a ruggedly handsome blond kid with a hugely cocky grin came up. “Sanders Carson, 22, Colorado, USA.” 

John wondered why Americans constantly insisted on naming their kids something where you couldn’t tell the first name from the surname, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Carson is a full-time guide on Denali, which most people know as Mt. McKinley, the highest mountain on the North American continent. He is quite proficient at snow and ice climbing, and even though he has no prior experience on 8000ers, he has climbed several mountains of more than 7000 metres. Although I have never met him, his CV is excellent and he offered first-rate references. I was very pleased when he inquired about a position with BSCC.”

Another page flip. A solemn, darked-haired young man stared out of his passport photo. “Madog Llewellyn, 21, Wales. Also an excellent winter climber. Madog does odd jobs all year long — painting, carpentry, fast food delivery — anything he can drop easily when he wants to go climbing. Predictably, he has been nicknamed Mad Dog by his fellow climbers. He's already completed several 8000ers. This is his first time guiding on an 8000er, but I know he can handle it because I have climbed with him under arctic conditions. I met him last year when I decided to do a climb after filming the Jaguar commercial.”

“Oh yeah, at the North Pole.”

“Not quite the North Pole, John,” Sherlock said severely. “The North Pole is located in the middle of the Arctic Ocean amidst waters that are almost always covered with constantly shifting sea ice.”

“Fine, so you met him on a climb _somewhere_ ,” John said, and yawned involuntarily.

“Yes, on Ridnitšohkka. He was already there waiting for favourable weather conditions and we decided to go up together. It might interest you to know that Ridnitšohkka is Finland’s second-highest mountain, although it is the highest mountain completely in Finland in contrast to…” He looked at John, whose eyelids were drooping, and said tentatively, “Though perhaps you’re ready for bed.”

What John wanted at that moment was the sound of Sherlock’s warm baritone rumbling on about anything. “No, no; go on…”

“You’re certain?”

“Mmm,” John replied.

“Very well,” said Sherlock, never loath to hear himself talk. “Ridnitšohkka is the highest mountain completely in Finland, while at the same time it is the second-highest mountain in Finland, because the highest mountain in Finland, Halti, is actually a spur of Raisduottarhaldi, but the very summit of Halti is actually on the Norwegian side of the border and thus not entirely in Finland,” he explained animatedly. “It is important to understand that these mountains are located in Lapland, where Finland and Norway share a border. Raisduottarhaldi is a Norwegian mountain, being the highest in the area. So for that reason…”

A quiet snore interrupted Sherlock’s somewhat rambling geography lesson. He turned his head and saw that John had fallen sound asleep.

 _22:30 BST – 23:30 BST_  
Sherlock gently lowered John’s seat to the sleeping position and covered him with a blanket. He picked up the cardboard sign and went to the closet to put the clipboard back in John’s carry-on. Then he rooted through his own cabin bag for the flight-approved-size container of ‘personal lubricant’, removed it from its plastic bag and tucked it into his pocket looking pleased. At 2300 hours the overhead cabin lights went out, and one by one the other passengers began to lower their seats. Finally there was no sound in the cabin but peaceful breathing (and some wet snuffling and a few snores). Sherlock lowered his own seat, steepled his fingers beneath his chin, and stared at the darkened ceiling of the first-class cabin thinking about John and other wonders of the universe. Five months ago he was not aware that anyone as amazing as John could even exist, and now he had this: _John, forever._

 _00:15 BST_  
“John, John, wake up and come with me,” Sherlock said quietly.

Roused from a deep sleep, John saw that the lights in the cabin were out. “W-What for?” he asked in sleepy confusion.

“Come along, John, don’t be tiresome.” Sherlock took John by the hand and helped him to his feet.

As they passed the other six seats heading to the rear of the darkened cabin, John noticed that everyone else appeared to be asleep and wished that he was still one of them. But Sherlock was clearly not going to be denied this mission, whatever it might be.

Suddenly John realised that his husband had led him to one of the two first-class lavatories. Sherlock opened the door and gently nudged John through. He locked the door firmly behind them and the intense, focused expression in his eyes was unmistakable. The doctor looked around in disbelief. 

“Seriously, Sherlock? We’re going to have sex in a public bathroom?” John asked a bit uncomfortably. 

“No, John; we are going to be joining the Mile-High Club in the spacious and exclusive first-class toilet of a Boeing 787 Dreamliner at 37,000 feet.” Sherlock crowded John up against the wall, displaying an extremely flattering urgency, considering that they’d been living together for five months already. “It is scrupulously clean in here, but I have no interest in kneeling on a hard tile floor. I believe hand jobs count as initiation activities.” He pulled the small container of lube from his pocket with a wicked grin.

“This trip is only about twelve hours total; can’t you wait till we’re in the hotel in Nepal?” John asked, pushing his hands weakly against Sherlock’s chest while at the same time unconsciously licking his lips.

“You don’t want to wait any more than I do,” Sherlock said with a smug smile. “In any case, what if there is some unexpected delay in the flight from New Delhi to Kathmandu? You wouldn’t want our balls to explode, would you?”

“You shouldn’t use the word ‘explode’ on an airplane,” John hissed. “It could be seriously misunderstood.”

Sherlock inserted a knee between John’s legs and pressed his thigh firmly against John’s crotch. “I don’t think there’s any way to misunderstand this.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” John gasped, throwing his arms around Sherlock’s neck to keep himself upright. He found himself helpless to resist thrusting against the hard, muscular thigh. “Everyone will know what we’re doing. Someone is sure to hear us and it will be so embarrassing if we’re caught.”

“Then we must be quiet as church mice,” Sherlock said solemnly. He wrestled down John’s jeans and pants, squeezed lube into his hand and then applied the hand to John’s cock, already hard despite his claims of reluctance. 

Liquid fire coursed through John’s veins and pooled deep in his gut. He conceded defeat. “Okay then, just be quick about it…oh God, no; don’t stop doing that.”

Sherlock smirked and didn’t stop doing that. 

He made an effort to cover John’s mouth with his own, wanting to capture there the wonderful sounds he knew John was not quite going to be able to stifle. But fearful of making too much noise, John had already buried his face tightly against Sherlock’s long neck as he trembled with the effort to remain quiet. He wasn’t quite sure how this had happened. He had been sound asleep, and now less than two minutes later, here he was on the brink of an orgasm. He stubbornly tried to hold it back lest he start howling with pleasure. Despite his best efforts the heat of climax burned furiously through him. He sagged a bit against Sherlock, relieved that he had managed to keep silent and that this whole crazy Mile-High Club scheme would remain their secret.

Suddenly John realized he wasn’t through yet.

Almost simultaneously Sherlock said in amazement, “John, you’re still hard.” He bent down and ran his thumb across the tip of John’s cock and a second orgasm rolled through the doctor, this one shooting ribbons of cream all over Sherlock’s shirt and face. “OH FUCK YEAH!” John cried out. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he started to slide down the wall, almost pulling Sherlock down with him. 

When John came back to himself, Sherlock was holding him up, running long fingers through his sandy hair, making soothing noises. “John, are you all right?” he asked, sounding bemused.

More worried about his partner’s comfort than his own, John murmured, “Oh, Sherlock, you must be aching, but I don’t think I can…to you…sorry…just give me a minute…”

“It’s all right, John. I came the second time you did. Without any manual stimulation. In my pants.” Sherlock sounded both puzzled and astonished.

“I haven’t had that happen since I was a teenager,” John mumbled groggily.

“I’ve never had that happen at all,” Sherlock said. “But watching you in the throes of multiple orgasm was extremely erotic.” His lips turned up at the corners. “However, we now have quite a cleanup ahead of us. You are practically unscathed, but my clothes are going to harden into cement right on me, and we have no replacements with us because we already shipped everything ahead to Kathmandu.”

“Just as well,” John said, hauling up his pants and jeans with hands that were still trembling a bit. “I know everybody heard me that second time. I would not want to make that walk of shame through our cabin to retrieve your bag.” Sherlock grinned as he stripped down and stepped into the small glass-enclosed shower. 

While Sherlock lathered up under the spray, John took a flannel from a pile on the counter, dampened it in the sink and cleaned himself off before fastening his clothes and tucking in his shirt. He rinsed out Sherlock’s pants in the sink. He took more flannels from the counter, wet them in hot water and tried his best to clean everything from Sherlock’s shirt and trousers before tossing the flannels into the receptacle for used toweling. Then he dried the clothes as best he could using the heat dryer.

At last Sherlock was presentable. They cautiously opened the lavatory door and looked around. No one was standing there scowling and they walked out as quietly as possible. However, they had gotten only a short way through the darkened first-class section before a spate of ironic hand clapping from their six fellow first-class passengers began, and it accompanied them all the way to the front of the cabin. They tumbled together into Sherlock’s seat, John’s burning face pressed once again into the side of Sherlock’s neck. 

“Could this get any more embarrassing?” he whispered.

“Embarrassing?” Sherlock asked. “I wouldn’t have cared if the entire plane heard us. That certainly must have been the most satisfying initiation of all time into the Mile-High Club.” As the one who’d experienced the multiple orgasm, John had to agree.

 _02:00 BST_  
When she came to wake them up, the flight attendant was not completely shocked to find them asleep together in one seat. After all, the galley was between the two lavatories, and the flight attendants had been unable to avoid overhearing bits of the two passengers’ induction into the Mile-High Club. She shook them gently. “You must get up now. We will be landing in less than an hour. You need to be in separate seats with your seat belts fastened.”

They opened their eyes and nodded blearily. The flight attendant worked her way back through the cabin, waking the remaining slumbering passengers.

 _03:00 BST / 07:30 New Delhi_  
The plane touched down at Indira Gandhi International Airport in New Delhi with just one hour before the second and final flight of the journey, which would terminate in Kathmandu, Nepal. 

John glanced at the bank of wall clocks announcing local time all around the world and looked down at his wrist. “Should we change our watches now?” he asked.

Sherlock shook his head. “Wait until we reach Kathmandu. You’ll just have to reset your watch there again, because we will gain another 15 minutes at that point.”

John said, “Really? How did they work that out?”

“The way I heard it,” Sherlock said, “Nepal decided they were their own country and thus deserved their own time zone.”

“Okay, then,” John laughed. “I’ll wait until we get to Kathmandu and save myself the extra work.”

 _04:00 BST/08:30 New Delhi_  
Carrying their coats and hand luggage, they went through all the check-in and safety procedures once more. Soon they were aboard the next plane. The second flight was short, only about one hour and ten minutes, and the plane had barely reached its cruising altitude of 30,000 feet before descending again.

“We are now entering Nepal airspace,” came the voice of the pilot. “I must apologize — normally you would be able to see the entire Himalayan range, but the clouds are quite heavy today.”

John looked out the window. He had been eager for his first sight of the Himalaya, but as the pilot had noted, there was total cloud cover. He swallowed his disappointment and tried to make the best of the situation: “Well, at least I can see a couple of mountaintops sticking out over there.”

Sherlock had once again let John sit by the window. Now he tugged John to his feet, then slipped into window seat and pulled John down onto his lap. Unlike John, he had no problem interpreting what he saw. The tops of the two peaks breaking out above the clouds were easily identifiable to him, and he was almost vibrating with excitement. “The taller peak is Everest, and next to it on the right is Lhotse, the world’s fourth-highest mountain.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” John said wryly, looking at the two pointy bits poking out from a fluffy white carpet.

Ignoring the mountaintop Sherlock had identified as Lhotse, John stared at Everest. This was his first sight of the mountain not in a picture, but because of the cottony cloud cover, it looked like nothing more than a triangular chunk of rock with a trail of snow streaming sideways off the very top; the jet stream made visible in the snow and ice crystals blowing off the mountain. John’s mouth felt dry and his heart pounded. In a very short time — two weeks at the most — he was going to be on that mountain! How high he would be able to go once he reached it remained to be seen.

 _Next story:_ the expedition comes together in Kathmandu and goes on the trek to Everest.

* * *

**META NOTES**

**Time Zones  
** For the purposes of this story it is British Summer Time, which usually starts around the end of March, exactly when this story takes place. BST is 4.5 hours behind New Delhi, where they will have an hour layover before their final flight of the trip. BST is 4.75 hours behind Nepal.

 **Now You’re Wondering About the Strange Time Zone Difference Between India and Nepal, Aren’t You?!**  
In a 2011 BBC interview with Nepali professor Semburan Acharya, the professor noted that Nepal was 10 minutes ahead of India when India set its time using the longitude that passed through Calcutta. Nepal calculates time using the longitude of the mountain Gauri Shankar, which is almost in the very center of Nepal. Later India switched to Hyderabad, which is further west. So this meant that Nepal was then an extra five minutes ahead of India.

After that whole explanation, Professor Acharya continued, “Nepal is an independent country and our time should be independent too.”  
_Source:_ http://lexmarksthespot.me/whats-the-deal-with-nepals-weird-time-zone

 **Air India**  
I checked the flights of all the airlines flying from London Heathrow (LHR) to Kathmandu (KTH). There are no direct flights; they all make one stop on the way. The duration of the flight depends on the speed of the jet and the route the airline takes to get from London to Kathmandu. This can be anywhere from 11.5 hours to 14 hours, with Air India always being one of the fastest flights. Air India’s average flight time is around 12 hours from LHR to KTH.

Once I settled on Air India, I checked their web site out thoroughly. Their first class cabins are astonishing. They have several different configurations depending on the type of airplane, but they’re all jaw-droppingly amazing.

 **The Seven Summits**  
The Seven Summits represent the highest point on each of the seven continents.  
1 Everest – Continent: Asia  
2 Aconcagua – Continent: South America  
3 Denali (aka Mt. McKinley) – Continent: North America  
4 Kilimanjaro – Continent: Africa  
5 Elbrus – Continent: Russia  
6 Vinson – Continent: Antarctica  
7 Carstensz Pyramid, New Guinea – Continent: Australasia  
8 Mt. Blanc, France/Italy – Continent: Europe  
9 Mt. Kosciuszko – Continent: Australia

 **Why Are There Nine “Seven Summits,” You Ask?**  
In mountaineering, sometimes it seems as though no one can agree on anything! Everest, Aconcagua, McKinley, Kilimanjaro, and Vinson are all, without question, continental high points, but there is some disagreement as to what constitutes the high points of Europe and the Australia/Oceania continent.  
I found the discussion a little tiresome, but if you are interested, you can read more about it here: http://www.peakbagger.com/list.aspx?lid=1000

 **Five Mountains More Challenging Than Everest**  
Depending how you phrase this question of your favorite search engine, you will see different lists…because as I said, in mountaineering, no one can agree on anything! But all the lists will include the 13,000-foot Eiger Mountain (Switzerland). The Eiger has one of the most daunting reputations in the climbing world thanks to its infamous north face, nicknamed Mordwand, for which a nice, idiomatic translation would be Death Wall.

 **Technical Climb**  
A technical climb is a climb which necessitates the use of tools such as an ice axe, crampons, ropes, ice screws, pitons, etc. Surprisingly, there are many parts of the Everest climb which can be handled simply using the hands and feet.

 **SOCO**  
Scene of Crime Officer, in the U.S. most popularly called Crime Scene Investigator.

 **Holiday Purchase**  
My Britpicker, johnsarmylady, tells me that holiday purchase is quite common in British Government jobs (police included). You buy extra vacation time and it is deducted from your wages over a year. It differs from unpaid leave in that you continue to be paid, albeit by a reduced amount. Either way, you need permission from the powers-that-be; you can't just walk in expecting to get permission. (I've since heard from a reader that holiday purchase exists in the US too, but is much less commonly available.) 

**Thames Lighterman**  
Vessels which are too large to able to dock on the Thames to unload their goods must moor in the middle of the river and transfer their goods to lighters. Lighters are smaller vessels, like barges. They come to the larger vessel, pick up the goods the larger vessel carries, and take those goods to the dock. Lightermen have been performing this work on the Thames for more than 450 years!

 **Weight Loss at Altitude**  
Once in the Death Zone (above 26,000 feet), the human body is no longer able to acclimate to the lack of oxygen and begins to deteriorate. The digestive system requires large quantities of oxygen to carry out the metabolization of food, but because the amount of oxygen in the Death Zone is only one-third that of sea level, the body will quickly begin to devour itself for nourishment even if a climber can bring himself to eat at all, as lack of appetite is another symptom of low oxygen — a rather vicious cycle leading to enormous and rapid weight loss.

 **Mountains in Finland**  
Raisduottarhaldi is a Norwegian mountain, being the highest in the area. Halti — the highest in Finland — is a spur of Raisduottarhaldi, on the country border. Ridnitšohkka is Finland's 2nd highest mountain, but it is the highest mountain fully inside Finland. 

Finland is where Sherlock (and likewise, Benedict Cumberbatch) shot the Jaguar commercial.

 **Multiple Orgasm in Males**  
I googled this topic and picked a website (http://www.whitelotuseast.com/MultipleOrgasm.htm) that claimed a man can train himself to have multiple orgasms by purposely trying to hold off ejaculating. I have no idea if this website even knows what it’s talking about, but it fit right in with what I wanted to happen in this story. Except that I had it happen to John by accident because I didn’t really want to make him have to work for it. 

**The Jet Stream**  
Mount Everest is so high that its top actually penetrates into the stratosphere, where winds called Jet Streams — extremely fast, relatively narrow air currents — have been known to blow at up to 200 mph. Temperatures as low as minus 73 degrees Celsius have been recorded at the summit. (I had to use a conversion chart to figure out that this is almost 100 degrees below zero Fahrenheit!) The majority of pictures of the summit of Everest show a characteristic plume of snow trailing off in the jet stream.

 **The Himalaya (or Himalayas, if you prefer)**  
The Himalaya mountain range runs 1500 miles from Northeastern Pakistan to Bhutan. There are more than thirty mountains higher than 25,000 feet but only fourteen over 26,300 feet, or 8000 meters. The majority of the 8000ers are located in the Himalaya. The rest are clustered in the Karakoram Range, which is technically not part of the Himalaya, despite its location spanning the borders between Pakistan, India and China. 

**The Everest Massif**  
Everest and Lohtse are part of the same massif and actually share a route up, not separating until Camp 4 at the South Col, approximately 26,000 feet and the start of the Death Zone.

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless plug: The stories in the Mountainverse are, in chronological order: John on Solid Ground, Just Desserts, The Big Flirt, How Mrs. Hudson Learned to Knock, The Price of Fame, The Mile-High Club.


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